Projection
A projector whirrs in an abandoned hall
And spills its secrets through the dark air
An image, clicking silently against a further wall
Is as unreal, as vague and empty as my empty stare.
Silently, the ghosts of somebody’s childhood dance
And give me reason to reflect
For if I only know the projector by the existence of those lies
Then what is knowledge but a fool’s hand
Pretending to hold diamonds?
Comments
I think it may have been Jung who said that in every relationship there are not two but four people, counting projections.
wow – this is deep! I’m not pretending to understand it but I like the cadence and use of language. I think the logic might be worrying me – the if…clause … do they have to be lies?